Tower of Ten-Thousand Cards
by RaretruffleXIII
Summary: Yami and friends revel in the company of a generous host. But when he challenges the trio to a friendly duel, the reality of their situation unfolds into an ugly truth.
1. Foreword

**Foreword**

Please skip to the next chapter for the start of the story. I suspect this foreword is against community guidelines but I felt uneasy in slapping it at the beginning of the first chapter like an unsightly growth. Unless I get significant complaint I'll keep it here for now but would be happy to move it should that be required. This small piece is about my experience with the game of Yu-Gi-Oh itself and how that spurred me to write this. If you're unfamiliar with the game and focus more on the anime, then I'd suggest moving onto the first chapter. If not, I hope this gives some insight.

The original formats were a far cry from what the game is today. Anyone around for Legend of Blue-Eyes, Metal Raiders etc. will tell you it was a simpler time, a slower time. Call it the Yu-Gi-Oh embodiment of hazy summers down on the farm. Other players, some Youtubers I recall, call it caveman Yu-Gi-Oh – brute strength oftentimes beating over more nuanced approaches (not that there were an awful lot of options available back then). Despite its simplicity, some old-school players out there, maybe myself included, would argue the game was a lot more balanced, more skill-based and ultimately more enjoyable back then. A controversial point, perhaps, but as they say – _you had to be there_.

I personally lost interest in the game just before the GX-era dawned, mainly because it ceased being a fad in school. I would have continued. But there was no one to play with. Cry, cry. For the longest period it remained a forgotten pastime with no reason or incentive to spare even a momentary consideration towards. That being said, I kept the majority of my cards in a crude huddle within a plastic bag in the closet. Seemed no use in throwing them away, and I'll always be grateful that I didn't.

There was no significant reason for me taking them out after nearing a decade down time. A brief spurt of boredom can yield a lot if you're lucky. The nostalgia was pleasant. The inky scent of the cards in particular sparked a lot of memories, from receiving my first booster pack from a friend to playing endlessly in the schoolyard. With no one to play with in the current day, however, I consulted the Apple iStore for any Yu-Gi-Oh themed apps and found one with decent enough gameplay (at the time I was unaware of Devpro, Duelling Network and the like). The presence of these new crazy black and white cards were both intriguing and intimidating. I had seen images knocking around the internet at that time and honestly thought they were fake. But I had to own one, this new aesthetic was too good not to have. So, I ventured into purchasing my first (ever) structure deck online, that being Realm of Light, of which this story is based around.

I remember testing it with a friend and being utterly speechless to how quick and powerful the deck ran compared to my thrown-together excuse for what I thought was competitive. This story in part exemplifies that feeling I had, that feeling of shock and awe like being transported decades into the future and facing its ruthless efficiency. In reality, any Duel-Monster-era decks wouldn't stand a chance, barring feats of improbability, so I thought bringing the old trio of Yugi Mutou, Seto Kaiba, and Joey Wheeler into this mix would make for a tense storyline.

I've seen how some other writers portray the duels themselves, and I think I'm likely taking a risk in how I'm presenting. Full disclosure – the duels will be full play-by-plays, written in more traditional writing frames without anything like life point counts or hand contents being quoted outside of every paragraph. As of writing this foreword, the first duel is complete, but I'll likely hold off on submitting it until I've really worked through perfecting and condensing the associated chapters. As the first duel stands, I've written a lot more than I was planning, and with two whole duels yet to be written I'm dubious that this will all work in its current format.

This is all for leisure. I have my doubts anyone will pick up on this as it might not be the kind of thing fan-fic readers look for. But in the event that anyone does, I wouldn't want to disappoint by not finishing what I started. In any event, I plan on releasing the first two chapters along with this intro, and currently possess another two or three chapters which just need some tweaking. So, if you've happened upon this and plan on reading further, I hope you enjoy. Any comments or criticism are very welcome (I need practise in taking both). And certainly expect some additions in the coming weeks.

 _Let's Duel._


	2. Chapter 1

Very rich. Earthy too. It's unlike anything the Pharaoh had tasted before, and yet, it possessed a strangely nostalgic flavour. Even the mere scent evoked a familiarity stemming from a deep, dormant corner of his psyche. He held the delicate china teacup between warmed fingertips with the rim gently resting on his lower lip. The aroma pleased his senses and slowed his heartbeat. Taking a generous swig of the sublime amber liquid – which rested at a perfect temperature – the Pharaoh urged to compliment the host on the fine refreshment. However, he and Kaiba were engaged in keen discussion and it would be rude to interrupt. Joey learned that the hard way after being on the receiving end of a verbal bashing from the ill-tempered CEO of the Kaiba Corporation.

Since then, Joey had been content with indulging in the various canapés laid out on the short-legged lounge table in front of the trio. All that food would be gone before long, knowing Joey, but that didn't bother the Pharaoh – he was more than satisfied with the heavenly tea. Kaiba on the other hand hadn't touched a morsel. After a distracted sip of his own drink, the business man's restless legs were eager to carry him off and away from their generous host's company. That is until said host spurred the conversation to the topic of his very own on-site duel arena. It was enough to prick the ears of the innovative games developer and lure him to stay.

They were mid-conversation. "Please," Kaiba objected, folding his arms in cynicism, "size and location are irrelevant. My duel disks allow a duel to be played anywhere and at any time. A pleasant view might be nice for a while, but sooner or later your patrons will be tired of looking at the same old scenery. That is, if they're not already bored out of their skulls waiting in line for their own duel to start. Why go through all the fuss when you can carry the game with you; go out seeing the world and duelling on your own terms?"

"Indeed, that's a very well-put point, Mr. Kaiba. However, seeing the duel arena for yourself might change your mind. It's something to behold, for sure, I was foolish to think I could express its magnificence with mere words."

Kaiba smirked. "I doubt it will be anything more than what I'm expecting. But, if you're really that eager to show me your little duel arena, then by all means, lead the way."

"Very well, Mr. Kaiba. I should warn you it's quite the climb. The stairs are this way." The host rose from his white velvet chair and escorted Seto Kaiba to the spiral staircase which started at the forefront of the circular Atrium. "Would either of you gentlemen care to join us?" He looked back at Joey and the Pharaoh with a warm smile across his lips. Joey's cheeks were spilling with bite-sized goods which he hurriedly swallowed down to reply. His cheeks blushed with embarrassment. Scratching the back of his head, he replied, "No thanks, I'm gunna chow down on this a little longer. Wouldn't want all this grub to go to waste." Their host laughed heartily and scratched his head in a manner similar to Joey.

"You've got that right. Well, when you're ready we'll be hanging on the top floor. Just up the stairs there."

"You got it!"

The exchange went unnoticed by Kaiba, who was half way up the stairs to the first floor. The Pharaoh however, was taken aback by their host's change in temperament. He was more informal all of a sudden, more laid back, more… like Joey. The Pharaoh dismissed his concern. He was simply appealing to Joey's character, to be more relatable and welcoming. Not that any of that mattered – this tea was just too good to ignore. Soon, both their gracious host and Kaiba were up the steps and gone from sight, leaving the Pharaoh and Joey to their own devices within the awe-inspiring aesthetic beauty of the sitting room they were so lucky to be relaxing in.

They were in Eden. The Pharaoh, drowned in ecstasy. Utterly oblivious to Yugi crying down his ear.

* * *

He felt numb. Yugi had taken a back seat whilst the Pharaoh took over but even in this ethereal, outer-body state he could still lose consciousness if not careful. It was difficult to concentrate on anything in particular; his eyes were hot and heavy, on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. There was a table in front of him, that much was for sure, and two men were talking. One of them – the heated, perpetually aggressive voice – belonged to Seto Kaiba. His voice was unmistakable. The other was much fainter and unfamiliar. Yugi tried to search for the source of the almost ghostly noise but couldn't will his eyes to focus. He did find a figure, wearing a loose-fitting robe long enough to brush against the floor, moving up the stairs as smoothly as a spirit stepping on smoke.

Everything was incredibly white. The mysterious figure's robes, the marble-tiled floor, even the furnishings were drowned beneath an all-consuming layer of whiteness so blank that they appeared to have zero detail. Yugi found this strange, and was now conscious enough to make this judgement. He eyed his surroundings, catching Kaiba on his way up the staircase. The robed figure was gone as well, so it seemed, as Yugi and Joey were the only ones in the room. _Someone had called it the Atrium._ Joey was ceaselessly gorging on a smorgasbord of nibbles set out on the table whilst the Pharaoh drank tea, doe-eyed and encapsulated by the mundanely decorated china cup between his fingers. It didn't feel right. The setting was somehow theatrical – the way Joey stuffed food left and right into his overfilled mouth, almost parodying his disposition; the Pharaoh, often so focused and serious, now sitting without a care in the world with a dumb smile on his face. It was unlike them.

"Pharaoh?" Yugi tried calling for his attention. "Pharaoh?" Once again. No reply. Not even so much as an acknowledgment. Yugi and his five-thousand year-old alter ego may have had separate minds but they were connected, and to some extent, shared the same consciousness. If nothing was wrong, the Pharaoh wouldn't be ignoring him like this. He tried calling again and again. An uneasy call for attention soon soured to desperate pleas as it dawned on the intangible consciousness of Yugi Mutou that he was usurped from his own body. The tie with his dear friend, the Pharaoh, had been severed, and in more ways than one.

Usually, when the Pharaoh would take charge of a situation, Yugi's being would go somewhere, but never far. His thoughts would vacate the forefront of his brain and become a background static, still part of the collective consciousness but in a supportive role. It was like leaning over his own shoulder and whispering whatever thoughts sprang to mind. But now, he had more presence. Not to his surroundings, as was apparent, but to himself. He could look down and see hands which were not his own. He could see the world at a different angle to what his real eyes were viewing. He had a body outside of his body, and with it, he could walk away from himself.

The only other times he felt like this were when he spoke with the Pharaoh in the one-hundred doored labyrinth of his subconscious, and…

 _Wait!_ Yugi's train of thought ground to a halt. Numbness returned to his arms and legs and a shiver of foreboding ran down his spine. All of a sudden, he saw the Winged Dragon of Ra enter its Phoenix form. The maniacal face of the possessed Marik Ishtar bawled with malevolent triumph. He had used Dark Spell Regeneration to utilise Yugi's Monster Reborn, lying in the graveyard, to his own effect. His Egyptian God card was back on the field and staring down Yugi's own Slifer the Sky Dragon. But Yugi wasn't duelling; the Pharaoh was, and only the Pharaoh. Yugi himself was fading away bit by bit, manacled in mid-air by his wrists and ankles by the power of the Shadow Game. The rules were sadistic – much like himself, Marik's other half was bound outside his own body, and would fade away as his duelling alter ego took life point damage.

All that was before. Somehow, the corrupted airs of the Shadow Realm had been replaced by this placid surrounding. Darkness had given way to light. Terror to peace. The world where they had once been, the world of the Duel City Tournament finals, was far behind them. Even their friends were gone – Tea, Tristan, Duke – so too was the twisted alternate persona of Marik Ishtar. The fact they were gone did not bode well. Was this some manifestation of the Shadow Realm? Perhaps a devious illusion incited by Marik's Millennium Rod. Whatever the answer, they couldn't stay here. Every moment they waste would allow their adversary to run amok and do God-knows-what to the others.

It could be pointless trying. After all, if they don't know how they arrived here, what good would they do trying to get back? For all he knew, Yugi could already have been swallowed up by the Shadows. This, whatever this place was meant to be, was a product of the Shadow Realm and was the front for Yugi's eternal torture. Evicted from his body, he was a mere ghost without physical form or influence, helpless to do anything but watch whatever atrocities and torment decided to materialise before him. But he couldn't believe that. There must be some way to get out of here. The Pharaoh was evidently beyond consultation. Same went for Joey. Kaiba was often too stubborn to believe in extraordinary circumstances and would shirk anything he believed improbable but was worth reaching out to. He was the most lucid of the three by the way he spoke and moved – much like his regular self. If all else failed, there was the mysterious robed man. He seemed to be resident of this strange dream-like world. If he did not help he would, at the very least, have answers.


	3. Chapter 2

Seto and his yes-sir no-sir host arrived on the rise of the staircase which led onto the roof of the towering building. It had been a tedious trek up many storeys, only now apparent by the distance away the ground sat over the edge, veiled beneath a delicate mist. Seto's calf muscles ached profusely, but he resisted to show it. His host, to all appearances, was unfazed by the climb, being without so much as a bead of sweat on his brow.

The old man hadn't lied. The view laid out about them was a painting, brimming with a spectrum of colours overlaying piercing mountains, mirroring lakes and bounding emerald plains. It was an awesome sight to behold…for a short while. A view can only go so far in the way of entertainment, Seto believed. What he was really here for was the duel arena and, to all appearances, there was the makings of a monumental arena. The pedestals were carved from an antiquated but structurally sound white marble. Columns stood in graceful symmetry around the perimeter. It was a scene from Rome, in the times of coliseum sports and gladiators. However, what was lacking, the equipment instrumental for the purposes of a duel, served to extinguish any chance its architect had of praise. What did he expect? No hologram projectors, no card readers, not even so much as electricity by the looks of it. When he claimed to have a fully operational duel arena, Seto expected nothing less but _fully-operational_. Now he would receive a wishy-washy monologue of convoluted and vague excuses attempting to free the man's salesman pitch of any fault and try to persuade Seto that the faraway promises were worth the baiting lies. He had heard it so many times before. From pitchers and employees and assistances and him and her et cetera.

"Before you say anything, you should know I'm a very busy man. So, you wasting my time is far from appreciated and you will regret doing so."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. Isn't this what I promised?"

"Don't take me for a fool; how exactly do you project the holograms? Answer me that in your next sentence or I'm gone from here."

"Simple," the host wandered over smugly to one of the duellist podiums under the doubtful gaze of Kaiba. He pulled a deck from beneath his cascading robes and began sorting through the cards with great care. A particular card caught his eye. A brief glimpse of its green borders told Kaiba that it was a spell card, but the image was too obscured through distance to make out. The host played it face-up on the podium, which consisted no more than a plain marble tablet with card zones carved onto its surface. To Kaiba's perplexity, a hologram did indeed materialise in the centre of the arena – a sanctimonious altar centred with a grandiose tomb matching the décor of the tower about them. What was most intriguing was the detail and vibrancy of the hologram. It looked almost tangible, solid to the touch and possessing an air of weight and scent. Kaiba looked frantically about in search of the rainbow illuminance of projectors but found none. Not even a hint of possible concealment. Had this man invented a way to project holograms without projectors? But how is that even possible? There is no logic in such an achievement; to project something one would need a projector.

"Very well, you have my attention," he relented.

"I promised you would be impressed. I am a man of my word. Speaking of which, I am willing to part with my methods if you would so desire them for yourself."

"Is that right? And what kind of compensation would a man in your position be expecting from the Kaiba Corporation?"

"No compensation, no cost to you, or your company, whatsoever."

"Nothing comes free. So, there must be a catch."

"One small personal request on my part. Face me in a duel. Defeat me, and I will surrender my secrets."

"You must be kidding? Do you have any idea who you're challenging, I'm Seto Kaiba, the greatest duellist of my generation."

"I do believe young Yugi downstairs once defeated you in a duel, for which he was invited to, and then went on to win the Duellist Kingdom tournament."

Seto laughed without emotion. "So you're not the pathetic recluse I thought you were, you actually know something of the outside world. But what few people know is I defeated Yugi outside the gates of Pegasus's castle."

"By threatening your own demise at his hands. You knew the boy hadn't the cold-heartedness to force you off the edge of a twenty-foot high castle wall. Some might call that blackmail – cheating."

Seto frowned at this. Few were in attendance of his and Yugi's excursion that day; only his pathetic friends stood by as spectators. Word of the particulars of said duel shouldn't have spread so far to reach the ears of this isolated old man. Unless of course one of Yugi's friends had been running his mouth, probably that Wheeler. The host had become abruptly sharp-tongued. Those passive, diplomatic eyes had been replaced with those of a viper.

"I play to win. By any means necessary. That's the mind-set of a true champion, a champion cannot show mercy or hand out charity if they hope to be the best. Perhaps if little Yugi followed by the same mantra I would gladly stand here and tell you he is the superior duellist."

"Though you wouldn't be standing here at all if that was the case."

"I knew he didn't have the guts to go through with it. And yes, I exploited that, call it blackmail if you must but cheating? Hardly. There is more to this game than the little rulings printed on the card faces."

"Very well, very well," the host waved his hand in exasperation of Kaiba's rantings, "I'm sure you want to beat me by the same degree. In which case, I not only challenge you, but your friends – Yugi and Joey – to a three-on-one duel. If I am defeated by any one of you, then you, Seto Kaiba, receive the prize."

"Please," he was laughing genuinely this time, "you really think you have what it takes to take on not only me but also Yugi Mutou. Perhaps you'd stand a chance against Wheeler; in fact, he may be a hindrance as opposed to an asset, but you're still making this too easy for me."

"I don't know why you complain. I have something you want, and I'm giving you a favourable opportunity to claim this prize, as you see it. And by your mantra of 'winning at all costs', I'm surprised you are putting up any protest."

"Hmm, very well, we shall duel. You are very confident, I'll give you that, but don't expect any mercy—"

"I know, I know," Seto took some offence to this. He did not appreciate being cut off so rudely. It was insulting. "I shall retrieve Yugi and Joey from downstairs. I shan't be long, and then, we shall duel." The old man was giddy at this prospect. He had livened up and was noticeably beaming. Seto said nothing, arms folded, watching the host disappear down the spiral staircase which led nowhere but the ground floor.

"You better not keep me waiting," he called down with frustration.

The formless Yugi Mutou had listened to the conversation atop the tower with great interest. So, this robed man wants to duel. But for whatever reason? He's offering Kaiba some trade secret but why make the proposition himself? It could all be in the honest desire to duel one of the best in the world. But something was off. The host's behaviour was erratic at best. Constantly shifting and morphing, at moments to extremes, especially when addressing different figures. The man had descended the staircase to invite the Pharaoh and Joey to the duelling matchup, leaving Kaiba to his own devices.

This was Yugi's chance. Out of the three of them, Seto was the most lucid, was most like himself in this hypnotic world. Without any further distraction, Yugi had to reach out to Kaiba if they ever hoped of leaving this place. He attempted the typical pleads and calls. He even tried shaking Kaiba by the shoulders but his hand simply passed through like a ghost. It was obvious now that Yugi exerted no physical presence whatsoever, bar his feet against the floor. This would make things near impossible.

There was one anomaly however. When the host had activated his spell card, the resulting hologram had an air about it. It was hyper realistic, with more intrinsic detail and presence than any arena or duel disk could produce. There was more – he couldn't be certain, but it was almost as if he could hear voices. Whispering voices. And a smell. A mixture of old books and warm skin. The host had neglected to retrieve his card when leaving and the hologram remained standing as though it were built into the rooftop. Yugi approached it with caution. As he drew closer, its aura intensified. There was a fine mist, like a cloud of pure light, which grew thicker the closer it was to the elegantly decorated tomb.

Yugi reached out his hand to touch the smoothed stone seal but was taken aback. Peering across the hardened aura, the world appeared somehow realer. It was as though Yugi was short-sighted and was donning a pair of corrective lenses for the first time. The world appeared as he remembered, and only now realised that how he was normally viewing his surroundings in this phantom state was, in itself, phantom. He circled the tomb and was now looking at Kaiba through the enhancing mist. He was so clear – features fuller, more well-defined, colours more vibrant. If only he was stood by Yugi at that moment, maybe he could reach out and touch him.

Kaiba glanced over in the hologram's direction. He looked distant, but then his eyes widened with bewilderment. He was looking right at Yugi now, their eyes meeting in an intense stare. Could he actually see him? Yugi began waving his arms above his head like a man stranded on an island trying to flag down a passing freighter.

"Kaiba! Kaiba, it's me, Yugi! Can you hear me?" he repeated and repeated breathlessly. Kaiba looked astounded, and began tracing the perimeter of the hologram in a wide arc. Yugi moved in tandem, ensuring that he remained in line of sight. Kaiba was evidently wary, he moved as though trying not to provoke a wild predator. He eventually came upon the pedestal upon which the spell card had been played and looked at it intently. "Oh no," Yugi said with broken hope. He watched as Kaiba picked up the card from the playing field and deactivated the hologram. He looked back to where Yugi was standing but his eyes, this time, looked straight through him, off into the distance. He shook his head, as if to say, _uh I'm seeing things_.

Yugi's options had now plummeted to naught.


End file.
